


This Is What Democracy Looks Like

by elumish



Series: Werewolves 101 [27]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Werewolves Are Known, M/M, Women's March 2017
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-22
Updated: 2017-01-22
Packaged: 2018-09-19 02:52:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 424
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9414752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elumish/pseuds/elumish
Summary: “Remind me again why we flew to DC to march when there was one in LA.”





	

“Remind me again why we flew to DC to march when there was one in LA.”

Derek smiles a little wearily at Stiles, holding the door open so Stiles can get out of the elevator. Stiles’s feet hurt, and he’s pretty sure the rainbow eyeliner on his face is smeared to hell. “Because I wanted to listen to Laura speak,” Derek says.

“Remind me again why Laura spoke in DC instead of in New York where she, you know, lives.”

“Because she had to go to the inauguration.” Derek unlocks and opens the door to the hotel room, shepherding Stiles in. Stiles immediately makes a beeline for the bed, flopping down face first on it. Derek sits down next to him. “She live-tweeted snide comments through the whole thing.”

Stiles laughs, the sound muffled by the comforter his face is smushed into. He could turn over, but effort. “I did like those. And her speech.”

Derek tangles his fingers in Stiles’s hair, and Stiles wriggles a little closer. “I’m assuming you mostly liked the part when she announced ‘fuck the patriarchy’.”

“I did enjoy that part. Also the ‘Voldemort we’re coming for you’ sign.”

“And, from what I could tell, shouting ‘shame’ at the Trump hotel.”

“Yeah, well, that beat the forty-five minutes we spent trying to get on a train at Farragut North.” Stiles turns himself over, lifting up his legs just enough to drop them down across Derek’s lap. “My feet hurt.”

“Yes?”

“Give me a foot rub. It’s the least I deserve for coming _all the way out here_ with you and suffering through _hours and hours_ of standing.” He bats his eyelashes at Derek. “Please.”

Derek laughs, one hand moving to trace the bottom of Stiles’s feet; Stiles twitches away instinctively. “Will you make it worth my while?”

“I’ll refrain from whining about it while you’re trying to sleep later.”

Derek’s smile grows, and Stiles is glad, because he had looked exhausted and worn, probably from dealing with all of the people. “That’s quite an incentive.”

“I’m glad.” Stiles wiggles his toes. “Come on, hop to it. We haven’t got all day.”

Derek takes one foot in his hands and starts massaging, thumbs pressed against the arch, and Stiles closes his eyes and moans. “You have awesome hands. The best hands. All of the hands.”

“All of the hands?” Derek asks, sounding amused.

Stiles nods, another noise coming from his throat as Derek presses again, hitting just the right spot. “All of the hands,” Stiles says decisively. “All of them.”

**Author's Note:**

> I marched in DC today and we stood for a ridiculously long time and couldn't hear anything because they apparently didn't realize they needed speakers past the stage and it was a disorganized mess and my feet would probably be happier if they actually fell off but I am so happy that I did it.


End file.
